My Ethereal Starlight
by reflection-of-nothing
Summary: You were my guiding light; you kept me from falling completely apart, and you still are my anchor to life. But promises are nothing but lies coated in sugary confections. It's almost just as sweet as the candies I offered to you when we were little, and I'm aware that I'm no better than all those adults you despised so much. [Non-incest Elsanna, Modern AU]
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Been so long since I've wrote and I'm as rusty as ever. Apologies for the length, grammar and errors. I don't have a beta and I'm not that totally a Nazi in English, so...just bare with me.

Anyhow, this is a **Modern AU** where Elsa and Anna aren't sisters. So yes, no incest because they aren't related. That much of an info I can divulge.

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**Prologue**

* * *

A star, a single luminescent celestial object standing out in the expanse of darkness clouding over my life, it shines brightly with the purity of brilliant gold and white blending together. It was an embodiment of the little hope that bloomed inside of me. It appeared and lit a small guiding light in this dark road I've long since accepted as my only place. It stood so close, yet seemingly so far away for me to grasp.

Cliché as it seems, that was the only thing I could ever describe her from the limited knowledge I have as a child. But if I were to be very honest with myself, I find that there is no such word worthy enough to describe "her".

She's unreachable, untouchable and pure. Like a star. Like an angel sent down to earth, or maybe it's because of how her beautiful blonde hair glitters under the sunlight or how her milky pale skin seems unblemished and perfect. I could probably go about every type of cliché descriptions a silly love struck kid could ever come up with and ramble all day long in front of my parents without getting ever tired of talking about her.

Funny though, I never thought I would have loved her far more than just mere admiration.

Guess I was wrong.

Now, she's just a distant memory from when I was a child, a person I could only possibly ever meet in my dreams. I doubt she would even want to see me in reality anyways, and it makes me smile bitterly. The thought of it makes me feel the pain that shoots inside my chest, it hurts and the feeling of it sears. The pain almost as suffocating as it clenches my heart tightly until I'm left grasping my chest.

Sweet promises and words coated with thick false hope, how many people have fallen to those? Honestly, I don't know, but what I do know is that I added her into the list of people who were left to keep on hoping for nothing. I only ever did offer her sweet lies that she desperately didn't want, I knew because she told me so.

I neglected that knowledge, so easily and willingly, submitting to the cruelty of disgracing her offered trust.

I chose to make her despise me, which I deserve.

I'm a fool though. And I'll continue to play as the fool, through and through.


	2. Ch 1: Dazzling Star

**A/N:** To clear up any possible confusion or question, this is **Anna's POV**. Again, forgive me for any errors. I am well aware of my limitations in English and I do try to make my writing bearable. I just wish I have a beta, it would make things easier, I think. I'm sorry if this update is short though because I'm trying not to make it _too_ long. I have a horrible reputation before in making extremely long chapters, so I'm trying to control it.

And, thank you to those who faved and followed this story. Also, thank you for the encouraging review, Guest. :)

Anyhow, I just hope this will entertain you. I honestly want to jump start somewhere else in my plot, but establishing Anna and Elsa's meeting as children is important and fundamental because it will have a factor in the later part of the story.

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**Chapter 1 – Dazzling Star**

* * *

School was never something I excelled well. I could barely even manage to keep myself upright throughout the whole class. I guess you can say I'd already have slumped on my desk before we even barely finish at least half of the allotted time length per class.

Don't get me wrong though, I don't hate school, even amidst all the unflattering amount of bad words and bullying I get from my other classmates due to the _hideous _freckles that cover from my cheeks to my nose. I do hate the words they spout, but sometimes I can't help but agree with them. I hate these freckles too.

Being bullied, meek and friendless doesn't keep me out of school though, but that also doesn't mean that the prospect of staying at home has never enticed me before. If I stayed at home earlier, I would have gotten to actually spend some rare quality time with my mom today because she took a day off from work.

Glancing up the wall clock that hanged neatly above the centre of the blackboard, a grin makes it way to my lips as I watch the time near our class's dismissal. My impatience melting, replaced with anticipation at each tick of the clock. I was never patient, especially when it comes to waiting.

My parents often jest that maybe I might have swallowed some kind of energizer when I was a kid because they never once saw me stay idle in one place. While it does happen to worry my parents due to the number of wounds and little scars I've earned from my little escapades, they never seem to hesitate in giving me permission to explore. They freely let me indulge my strong curiosity, which does sadly lead me to countless trouble and a few wounds here and there.

It wasn't that I want to pick up trouble though, I really don't want to. It just gets really lonely when you're by yourself and no one wants you around.

Going off and wandering out to explore leaves me feeling exhilarated. It makes me feel free and weightless, unlike when I'm all alone inside the house, cooped up in deafening silence. The house is mostly empty, save for when I'm there. It's almost as if I'm only the ever constant occupant there since my parents were never home most of the time. They were either working for their firms, or are performing in invited events.

Of course I don't mind that they don't spend that much time with me though, I'm already nine years old, I'm old enough to manage myself. I'm used to the fact that they are never really around, it has been like that ever since I was five years old. Plus, I know they are working hard for my sake, that's why I need to be good and strong.

I'll be a good girl, I promised them that much.

I just can't say that right now though, it's kind of hard not to break that promise, especially when I'm watching the time.

A few minutes pass by with me struggling to contain myself from jumping off my seat, when the bell finally alarms, signalling that classes are done for the day.

I would have jumped up and celebrated its signal, but all I could do is to let a pout form on my lips and cross my arms, huffing.

Sadly, class isn't finished for me yet, and to my immense dismay, today's lecture is taking bit longer than expected because Mr. Weselton ranted way too excitedly about History. I didn't pay that much attention to him though because I found his wig hilariously disturbing my focus. It continuously slid awkwardly off the centre, showing our teacher's blandness.

I don't know why he even bothers to keep the wig on, but I think being bald is cool. It makes your head look shiny.

Thankfully after a minute of ranting, Mr. Weselton decided to finally let us all go when he finally remembered that he had to be home early, or else his wife would put him in great hell. Probably somewhere near the phrase, _"Having my ass served on the plate,"_ Mr. Weselton complained.

It's weird, but kind of funny nevertheless with how our History teacher talks to himself a lot, even though sometimes the profanity he says makes you cringe.

I stuff my notebook and writing utensils to my backpack as slowly as possible, I don't feel like rushing out, or else I might get squished in attempting to do so. Shaking my head, I sigh, staying a bit back to let my classmate push themselves out of the door. I'm just happy that lecture is done. I really can't stand to sit there for even just few more minutes. It makes me extremely fidgety and antsy.

On another note, staying a back for a bit has its pros, especially when out of the corner of my eyes I caught a quick glance of our History teacher hopping out of the classroom like a frantic chicken.

I find it very hard to stifle my laughter, more or less because of the way his wig bounced off his head as he left.

* * *

It was already nearing five o'clock when I finally got out of the classroom. I didn't want to push through the crowd clogging the doorway. I'd probably just fly off after being pushed out of the way because of how lanky I look. Not that I'm complaining anyways, staying a few minutes in school to avoid getting a bruise is better than risking the chance of the possibility of breaking an arm.

I however never liked staying back a bit late in school. It feels scary especially when you're walking alone in the hallway. It takes me by surprise when I didn't feel the fear that I expect myself to feel. Instead, I stop for a moment, my eyes wide with wonder at the magnificence of the mixed colors of orange and blue in the sky.

Approaching the open window, my hands automatically clutch onto the wooden frame and look out of the second floor window. I smile, feeling content at that moment as I took in the scenery. I would love to capture the scenery in sketch, but I don't really want to stay for too long, I still need make a stop by the market and buy the ingredients for tonight's supper.

I took one last look at the sky before walking away from the window towards the stairwell, but before I even get to take one step down, my ears suddenly perk up at the faint sound of a violin playing upstairs.

I know I shouldn't check up on that because I have to leave school now, but the nagging curious side of me tells me that I might not have another chance at this, that there was this gut feeling that urges me, telling me that this is far more important than scurrying out of the school. I also don't want to regret not checking up on this, especially when I'm extremely curious as to who is playing such a heavenly melody.

Pushing away any second thoughts back, I change course and start descending up to the third floor, following the beautiful sound of the violin all through the entire walk across the hallway. Each time I take a step towards the far right end of the third floor, the clearer and louder the melody gets. As I near the sole classroom at the end, my heart starts to pound faster inside my chest.

I don't know if I'm nervous or elated, it's hard to know when the only sound that runs through my head is the hard beating of my heart and the melody of the violin coming from inside the classroom.

It confuses me why my heart is suddenly acting like this, it was never like this when I heard dad play the violin. Am I going to get a heart attack? I hope not, I don't want to be found sprawled out on the floor and have my parents worry about it, even if the melody is worth making my heart stop.

I'm may not be much of a professional when it comes to musical instruments as of yet even if my parents are both musically inclined, I do know for a fact that this is quite an outstanding performance. Hearing this person play, I know that they practiced a lot with how perfect and errorless this performance is. There's also this passion and emotions flowing in the melody that makes me get an idea of how dedicated the violinist is in playing this wonderful instrument. It reminds me of how my dad once played Amazing Grace in front of live performance three years ago.

But I feel bad being here, I feel like I'm intruding something so intimate that it makes me feel very nervous for some odd unknown reason. It was probably because I'm an awkward person who doesn't have any friends at all.

A sigh escapes my lips at the thought of my self-decapitation. It isn't my fault for being such an attractive nine year old lanky redhead, and that was sarcasm.

There was never anything attractive about me, I'm too small, skinny, and I have hideous freckles so it's not really surprising why people call me mocking names.

It hurts though, _so much._

I run a hand through my fiery red mane, all the while puffing my cheeks. I try to pull myself back before I further lose myself to my self-decapitating thoughts. Right now the only thing I need to do is to check and see who's playing the violin inside the room. I just need to take a peek through the door window. It should be easy as pie.

Who am I kidding though? There's just something about that room that makes me feel uneasy. Or maybe it's the person inside it that makes me feel like this?

_"Man up,"_ I grumble to myself before slapping my cheeks. I put on my fierce confident expression and start walking again towards the door; rather, I tried to, without looking so robotic. I wonder if the person inside the room would run from me if they saw how I'm acting like a freak.

Thankfully enough, the melody of the violin continues to play, uninterrupted and undeterred. The violinist oblivious to my apparent approach and awkwardness, the loud music drowns out the noise of my footstep. Soon, I stop in front of the door. A frown forms on my face as I look at the little window in the middle of the door. It was two inches above my line of eyesight that I have to tiptoe to get a glance inside. It makes me woe for my height. Maybe I should try to squeeze in a glass of milk in my daily meals.

I didn't bother to look for a chair though and resolved to tiptoe; it takes way too much effort and time to bring it here and the anticipation and curiosity of seeing the violinist is already painfully gnawing me too. I can't bear to stall time anymore when I'm _this_ close.

I know I should have a bit of self-restrain, but I always find myself giving in to my curiosity, it makes me look shameless and I can feel my cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment for how silly this is.

Standing on my toes, I took a peek inside, wobbling a bit because of the strain on my toes because of my body weight.

What I saw had inside had left me unprepared for the magnificence that knocked the air out of my lungs, it left me breathless and up in the cloud with eyes wide as saucers and mouth agape, my jaws can't drop any lower than it already has.

Standing in the middle of the empty music room is a young beautiful blonde, possibly a year or so older than me.

Her soft looking blonde tresses were hanging loosely around her pretty face and were illuminated by colorful blend of yellow, orange and red from the sunsets light passing through the clean stainless window across the room. Her skin is pale like fresh snow, unblemished and soft. And the baby blue sundress she wore, help me gosh, it complimented her overall appearance.

In other words, she looks graceful, regal and divine. It's almost as if she's the perfect picture of sophisticated grace and divine beauty combined in one.

She can't be real.

She's too beautiful to be real and it's hard to comprehend how someone like her can be real and perfect at the same time. I feel like I'm looking at an unearthly being, a painting of a goddess and if I were to compare myself to her, there is no way I could ever match up with her. I look and feel as lowly as a peasant in front of a princess, dressed in just a simple baggy T-shirt and shorts.

I just can't believe how inside this room, it held this angelic blonde in the center and was able to contain her, hiding away such a magnificent treasure from the prying eyes of the world. The plaintive look of the classroom did not give her any justice at all, but she still looked peaceful, zoned out from the world, eyes closed tight.

The serenity on her face is priceless though and seeing it leaves my heart feeling warm and fluffy inside.

There is something about her that appealed me. It isn't just because of how beautiful she is; it is how much she stood out like a dazzling star in the night sky, shined like a brilliant diamond, and lit up the room like a blazing fire with just her mere presence.

There is also something about her aura that captivates me. Why or what, I don't even know.

I think I don't even know how long I've stood there, tiptoed, just looking at her. I didn't even notice when the melody of her violin had faded into nothing. All I know is that I'm knocked senseless and incapable of thinking coherently. Especially when I saw her eyes flutter open to discover that she possesses such clear jewel-like icy blue orbs.

And when her eyes suddenly look straight into mine, I felt the chills run up my spine, not just because of how cool her eyes looked, but because she's staring right back at me that I felt a spark, a connection setting itself from me to her.

I would have drifted blissful that somehow, someone finally looked back into my eyes and noticed me.

But then it hit me, hard, like someone had dropped a rock on my head.

_She _saw_ me_.

I didn't divert my eyes or break our eye contact. I know I should have at least ducked and hid myself or run off, but I didn't. I just stupidly stood there, dumbstruck, watching her icy blue eyes widens in shock.

This is bad. She caught me looking and I'm frozen in place, horrified at the realization of being caught staring red-handed at her. The feeling of anxiety comes back again in full force, along with my heart beating harder and faster inside my chest in a dreadful way.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath. The very first moment I cursed too.

My head is ringing numerous warning alarms, telling me that I had to get away.

In a fit of mindless panic and rush, I hastily turned away from the small window on the door and ran away, not bothering to wait for the possibility of her snapping out of shock and catching up to me.

I don't want her to catch me. I don't know how I'd explain myself to her.

I'd just look like a creepy kid to her.

Skipping as many steps as I can, I went down the stairs. Once my feet finally touches solid floor, I quickly make a mad dash out of the school, my cheeks flushed from running and the embarrassment that's burning inside of me. I probably look silly to other passers-by, but I don't care.

I just had to get away as quickly as possible.

I didn't bother to make a quick glance over my shoulders, to look back and see if she's watching me.

_I didn't dare to._


End file.
